Dee In A Nutshell

Feed Me, Love Me, Never Leave Me.



The disease is back and I have been tagged and tagged and tagged again. There is something about rules but that will come later. As of now, I will regale you once again with tales of myself or better yet 6 random facts you may or may not know about me.

Let’s see:


I am increasing in girth and as such have been mistaken for pregnant by many people. It all started when my sister told me she had heard at school that I had given birth, of course she knew it was bull because she lives with me but the people at her school, my old one, were convinced. Then I was out one night and some guy I went to school with very briefly was standing with me at a bar and he tells me congratulations while staring at my belly, I corrected him obviously but was not very happy about it and then the last straw was when last week my very good friend whom I hadn’t seen in a while calls me. I will transcribe part of the conversation below.

Her: Is there something you want to say before I quarrel?

Me: Uhh, I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about?

Her: Should I be congratulating you?

Me: On my not so recent promotion at work?

Her: No, on your five months pregnancy

Me: WHAT???!!!!!!

Her: I just heard that you were with child. I was berated for being a bad friend for not knowing.

Suffice it to say I was shocked, I knew I was growing a potbelly but I had no idea it was this bad. So I have embarked (in my mind) on a rigorous diet to reverse these effects.


I have a very strange relationship with my period. I can’t stand it, I hate being in so much pain with nothing I can do about it. I hate the fact of it, the way it makes me feel eugh and the way I have been having it every month since I was 10. On the other hand, I am so freaked when it is even one day late, even when I have no reason to be afraid, I can barely sleep for worry. Talk about love-hate.


I found out two days ago that I like Jazz. How crazy is that? I have always been firm in my dislike for jazz mainly because people who do like jazz are music snobs and also I’m just not that into it, or so I thought until I found out that Big Band and Swing which I love are actually categorized as Jazz and so now I grudgingly admit that I do like Jazz although I am quick to add exactly what I mean by that.


You know how you create labels for your posts, I didn’t think I would ever need to use the labels on this post again but I guess I was wrong as I (rarely) am sometimes. I just had that random thought and decided to include it in here since I am struggling with things to write.


Almost done. I like taking pictures. Not only of myself but of everything as is evidenced in my previous post with the pictures of sidewalks and stuff. I can’t wait to own my own camera which I am in the process of acquiring. I do feel for all of you whom I will subject to my pictures all the time, it will be my artistic outlet.


I have girl crushes. Do the rest of you girls? I just know some women I would just love to be or have been. Like, they’re all independent and smart and funny and have their own individual sense of style and I hope that is how I come off. You hope you are looking into a mirror when you see them or are with them.

I hereby tag Tumwi, Kissyfur, Duksey, Dante, Inktus and B2B.

If you’ve been tagged before, tough shit.

Oh! Rules;

Link back to your tagger.
Post these rules in your submission.
Share six things/habits/quirks/whatever about you in your submission.
Tag six [random] people at the end of it.
Tell each taggee via comments that he/she done been tagged.



Shutter Happy

Don’t ask me why there is a blow dryer in the living room.

Mbu, I was sleeping, safely tucked under my mosquio net.

This is the book I am reading now, Hippopotamus by Stephen Fry. This page is of no particular importance, just happened to be the one I was on when I decided to take the pic.

I like this picture, the sidewalk just looked so pretty with the shadow of the tree and everything.

I liked it so much, I took it twice.


The Beautyful Ones Are Not Yet Born

This is my attempt at a proper book review.

This book is beautiful, I realize I say that about a lot of books but I mean it all the time. There is something about books where the protagonist remains unnamed; there is a way one relates to characters that are nameless that is different from those that are named. You don’t assume anything and every little description helps you form an opinion as to what kind of person this character is.

The main character in this book, the man as he is referred to, is trying not to be corrupt in a country riddled with corruption. His family chastises him for not wanting to advance and make them happy when all their friends around them are doing so well. What is so sad is that he knows it is wrong and that he is doing the right thing but he feels guilty for not doing the wrong thing? Do any of us even know what that is like anymore in an age where everyone is so preoccupied with their own fiscal satisfaction, where we step on the little man to get to the top of the ladder, especially here where nothing can get done without a few hands getting greased? Even sadder is the fact that even in the knowledge that the man is doing the right thing does not help ease the futility of his life. The man feels that all there is to life is living it by not complaining about his station in it, going to work, going back home and then going back to work. The author masterfully describes everything in this book, there is a scene where the man takes a lunch break with no lunch to eat and decides to take a walk that leads him to cross some railway tracks and I swear you can see this man, you are there with him, as hungry as he is and totally worn out but glad for the fresh air and sunshine. There is a line that stayed with me, “His breath reeked with the rich stench of rotten menstrual blood”. Who but the most awesome writer can pull a line like that off?

If you can read this masterpiece and let it change your life.

The reason I hate writing reviews is that I will never ever write as beautifully as the authors of the books I am writing about and as such can never convey to you just how beautiful the writing is. Just trust me because even though I can’t write, I sure can read.


Nothing Doing

Can you believe there is not a place on Kampala Road that sells coffee at 7:00am on Sunday? Shouldn’t there be a coffee bar that is open all the time? I woke up at an ungodly hour to be at work and all I needed was a quick fix but neyvah to be any help. Nandos was open but with a dead coffee machine, Cafe Pap was open but only for cleaning as for Dominoes, the doors were even closed. Now I am here dozing at my workstation and starting to find voices in my ear. Life is hard.
So, I was reading through my blog and it seems like I used to lead a very interesting life compared to the one I am leading now evidenced by all the partying I used to do and Dante is on my case constantly that I am growing old but I disagree. I might not blog a whole lot but I am really happy right now. Happier than I have been (I was going to say in a long time but I don’t usually be sad) almost ever. Just because I don’t blog does not mean I am old and boring, does it?
Anyway, I was at Garden City the other day with Carlo having coffee and killing the hours till I was to watch American Gangster with the lover when I got stalked. It wasn’t as bad as it sounded but it was kinda freaky. So there we are at the NYK when this guy sits down opposite us right in my line of sight and he just keeps staring at me. He buys just a water and then he walks outside to our table to use the tissues passing on the way another perfectly ok set of tissues. I thought that was the extent of it, I am kinda used to being stared at so I thought no big deal. We walk away after paying our bill and enter some saloon to get Carlo’s ears pierced and what do you know SD (Stalker Dude) walks right in there behind us and aks how much a hair cut is and then again sits right opposite us. We decided to leave the saloon and walk over to the ATM for Carlo and again he follows us. At this point it is just getting irritating because he is all sweaty and smelly and ukempt, his shirt is half untucked and he is not cute. If you are going to stalk someone, atleast, have the decency to look good while doing it. So, Carlo leaves because it is time for me to go get the tickets and I walk up to the cinema. I meet an old friend and go over to say hello and from where I am standing at Tutti Frutti I see SD looking a bit like he has lost someone he is trying to find. I get the tickets but I have to wait before we can get in the cinema so I sit on these chairs they let you sit on as you wait and who walks up and sits opposite me? You guessed it. I start to think he is dumb because does he think I am not seeing him, why doesn’t he say anything but he walks up to the concession stand and starts asking about the prices of things. Thankfully the lover finally shows up and I practically run to him and hug him because this was getting weird.
Anyway we saw American Gangster and I must say, Denzel has excellent teeth and his acting isn’t so bad either. The whole time I was thinking Frank Lucas had him some brass balls and also even though he was a drug dealer you’ve got to give it up for him, the man was intent on being rich and poweful and I don’t know if it just the movie but it looked so easy.Even us we sell pure heroine and be rich, right?